Earlier today I accompanied a friend of mine to his court appearance for a traffic ticket.  Ordinarily, I would have laughed this off and refused to go, but, the location happened to be in the same town as I attended college (during my undergraduate years), to which I return very infrequently.  So, I decided to be a good friend and go along with him; not only give him directions , but also to see the college town and eat at one of my favorite places from my college years. 

Now, this town is a rural, upstate New York town, and many of its inhabitants are farmers, dairy or otherwise.  I brought a book to occupy the time, but people-watching the traffic court attendees became far more entertaining.  The choice of attire by some of those waiting their turn was a bit curious.  Dirty tank tops (worn by a man with a hairy back), to people wearing camouflage shirts, pants, or jackets, this crowd had me fearing that I would leave without some of my clothes ("Look, jeans!  And shoes!  Get 'em!").  I guess "dress respectful of the court" means different things to different people. 

Anyway, when we first arrived, we had to pass through the metal detector.  The officer at the desk asked me to take out my traffic ticket.  When I told him that I was here with the person in front of me he replied: "oh, for support, I see," as if he expected us to kiss later.  Also, when I passed through the metal detector, I went forward a bit further than most people did out of consideration for those behind me to have more room to come through.  Apparently, I went too far and the desk attendant looked in disbelief like I wanted to walk through the adjoining wall.  How dare I be considerate for my fellow humans.  I guess if I lived up there I would hate my life, too.

Once we got into the courtroom, I forgot that I had my hat on, but rather than politely tell me to take it off, the tone and phrasing indicated it excessively irked him.  Or he wasn't a Milwaukee Brewers fan.  So, I was batting 3-for-3 in my encounters with rude and irritable people at the Town Hall.

On the way out of town, we stopped at one of my favorite eateries of all time: Doug's Fish Fry.  The portions are tremendous (one FULL fried haddock fillet, a cup of the best coleslaw ever, and two handfuls of fries apparently measured by Andre the Giant).  Despite the awesome food, the atmosphere is pleasant and spacious.  However, don't be foolish enough to check your cell phone or talk on it while present and minding your own business.  I get irritated when people talk on their phone and try to talk to clerks or other employees waiting on them, but when the transaction is completed, you can talk on your phone until the phone company needs to send up another satellite just for you.  However, I was off in the corner talking to the editor of this Blog, and my friend was glancing at his phone when the clerk said: "this is a bar!  Why are people on their phones?"  Then she proceeded to walk out behind the counter and converse with a friend of hers who was carrying a baby in its cradle. 

Now, the restaurant was practically empty and no work needed to be done, but to have four of the five visible workers huddled around the baby -then take turns holding the baby- sent a tinge or irony in my mind.

After all, who brings a baby into a bar?